Discarded
by Wanzer Rezmaw
Summary: The Avengers are on top of the world. Now in the immediate spotlight of the World's attention after saving New York City from an imminent crisis, children, teens and adults all flock around the Super-heroes. Yet, the World still isn't perfect, crime can't be stopped everywhere and while the Avengers take care of the big problems; sometimes it takes normal humans to cause change.
1. White Hat Blues

Discarded Issue #1

There was nothing more that Jacob Engel would have liked more than to be sitting at home, enjoying a cold beer in front of some mind-numbing broadcast. It was care-free moments like those that made him feel like the work he did was actually worth something; right now though, he was hand-cuffed to a chair being looked down upon by an elderly military officer and an attractive female soldier. "Seems, I've burnt out all my luck in one day." He replied casually at the pair, staring up, holding a façade of calm, knowing at any minute either one of them could snap and simply send him to an early grave. No one would know, no one would care and they'd never face any kind of justice for his murder. Maybe it would be better to start from the beginning?

September Fourteenth, 2013, three p.m.:

New York city, the biggest shit-hole that mankind ever made next to New Jersey in most peoples' minds. A grand metropolis of degradation, apathy and the bleak outlook that somewhere, someday, someone was going to make sure that you weren't going to have a penny in your pocket and a black eye to show off for the next few days. Life was just a never-ending cycle of waiting, hoping for one of the many heroes that were around to save you. At least, that was what Jacob thought. At five-ten, he wasn't a small guy, a little over average for an American and broad at the shoulders with a semi-decent sculpt; not a body-builder but certainly no slouch when it came to his health. Most wouldn't think a guy like this would ever be a target for anyone; however, he always told tourists they'd be surprised who the gang members or common crooks would go after. _A gun in your hand brings courage in spades._ It was a motto that so many criminals knew all too well, at least until one of the super-heroes in the area beat the ever living hell out of them.

"That's just the thing. No matter how often a criminal gets beaten. No matter how many heroes there might be; you just can't save everyone. There is no way to prevent all crimes before they happen, so murders happen and the kill count of the city is only being kept down to a manageable level by a grand-organization of heroes patrolling the night, every night." Jacob said this to the elderly man sitting next to him, who was flipping through a set of trading cards that he had just purchased for his grand-sons birthday. Each of them was of a different member of the 'Avengers', a team of super-heroes constructed to deal with the problems too great for anyone to deal with. As the old man flipped through them, Jacob identified several like Iron-Man, Spider-Girl, Hulk and Captain America; however, as his current conversation piece went through them, he didn't seem to be paying much heed to him. _Another fool, who doesn't even realize what I'm talking about._ No sooner than the thought passed, did hear a reply.

"At least they are doing something. Not just sitting around and complaining about problems that will likely never be fully fixed. I don't worry about being attacked, I feel safe with them around, even if they can't be everywhere at once." With a small smile, he put the cards into pocket of his button down, standing up with his thin grey hair blowing in the wind before walking away, hobbling on his cane.

_The problem is, even if they claim to be helping, they draw in more freaks who seek a 'challenge', like me. _Looking down at his hands as he thought about it, Jacob could still see the callouses from his summers working in lawn-care; busting his ass just to make a minimum wage paycheck then to watch it be burnt away by piles and piles of bills and student loans. Every rough ball on his flesh was a testament to the blood and sweat that poured from his body five to six days a week, ten hours at a time. _I've spent my life working, doing what I could to scrape out a living and now I have to watch all that freedom be put into the hands of a select few? I didn't put up with that crap with the politicians and why should I do it now for a bunch of people dressed in spandex?_

These thoughts trialed away as quickly as they came, his head had turned down the street; watching as the crowd moved by. A sea of faces, combined with clothing of various cut and make carrying the favorite brands and recognition to what 'crowd's' they belonged to. Of these, the most prominent were those wearing the logos of their favorite heroes or designs created to mimic them; Jacob's brown eyes rolled as he leaned forward, propping his head onto his now interlaced fingers. There he sat, a twenty-one year old male, barely four months from the southern reaches of the country and still clinging to his accent like it was his final life line. It was literally all he really had left to his name at this point. Going to school in New York was draining him dry, the cost of living was astronomical and to top it all off his work wages weren't getting much better. Having reduced himself down to working as a barista to make enough money to keep himself barely alive and making use of the college's amenities whenever he could to continue living in the manner he was accustomed to, which was just above squalor.

Dressed the part of his current situation, Jacob wore the cheapest clothing he could get his hands on, which in this case were a ratty pair of jeans, a faded grey t-shirt from the local good-will and finally a worn pair of tennis shoes. _What good do these super-heroes think they are doing? Sure, they can keep us safe, make us feel nice and comfortable in our beds at night; however, what about when it isn't our bodies that need saving? Every day, people starve to death, every day someone freezes on the streets or faces problems these heroes could never help with. So what, they can take care of some of crime, but where are they for the people that really need help? Where the hell are Tony Stark's billions when it comes to feeding the hungry or helping the poor? _Feeling cold and bitter over the fact that he was rotting on the streets, becoming less and less every day as the economy plummeted and the more 'fortunate' continued to spire above him.

_It's bad enough that I have to see his smug mug on television every time I turn on the news, but now I also have to deal with the fact that he saves my life every other day? Great, just what I need…to be thankful to the biggest ass on this planet. _Standing up after seeing the thirtieth child walk by with some Iron-Man mask over his face, Jacob started to walk away; he had, had enough of all this hero worship and the distorted sense of love that these people showed their so called saviors. Every step was now a march against the crowd, forcing his way through the surge of people, the endless waves of New York foot-traffic. Every now and then, there would be a bump and he would stop and check himself to make sure nothing had been pick-pocketed…thankfully it didn't happen today.

"Hey, Gizmo." Jacob finally stated with some mild affection as he entered into his single room apartment in one of the seedier areas of New York. The price for the place was ridiculous, but it was the best he could hope for. Every day was just another struggle here, but that was his own fault for picking such a hard region to live in. Suddenly, something brushed against his leg, rubbing its long furry body between his ankles before a soft purring sound reached his ears. "Aww, Gizmo, you always know how to cheer me up. Come here buddy, I bet your starving." Gizmo, a turtle-shelled American short-hair cat, was all that Jacob really had left in his life to look forward to anymore. Seeing the short-haired feline always brought him a great deal of joy; especially knowing that the cat would lovingly greet him every time he came through the door. Letting the creature curl around his legs a bit more, Jacob finally bent down, picking the cat up and letting her purr happily in his arms until he grabbed her food bowl.

As with most animals, as soon as her ears heard the rattle of food, Gizmo had leapt out of Jacob's arms and was curiously following the sound as he lead her towards his computer. Setting the bowl down next to his computer, Jacob watched as the cat leapt up onto the table, curiously pawing at the empty receptacle before it was filled with bits of kibble. "There you go, my little beauty. Eat up, I've got to see what's going on today." Jacob only stared down at his laptop with those words, running a single finger over the sleek black notebook. Lifting the screen up and turning it on, he took a single moment to glance at his facial features in the reflection that screen gave to him. Honestly, he looked a bit older than he really was, at twenty-one, his features were sharp and board, giving him the look of some grizzled soldier when his hair was buzzed short. Today though, it was longer than normal, his brown locks curling at the edges with slight bits of blonde showing from where the sun had bleached it. Yet, he ignored those features and his amber-green eyes; instead, his focus was directed at the tuft of facial hair just resting on his chin. It was the only area that hadn't been trimmed and he scoffed at the awkwardly colored patch of copper colored hairs.

"Gotta love the bits of Irish in my blood, I can't even grow a beard without looking like I'm sporting the biggest collection of hair colors on any human body." Grumbling about it for a moment, he figured he would just shave later, already too busy typing in the password to his computer and waiting for the start-up screen to load. _Well, at least here I can do something that others can't, when I'm sitting on the streets, I'm nothing, but behind a computer…I might as well be a God._

As soon as the internet kicked in, Jacob was off. See, Jacob isn't like most people when it comes to searching the internet. He isn't someone who spends all day arguing on forums, a gamer or anything like that, rather, Jacob is a hacker. Not just any hacker though, one of the best in the world. When he was growing up, there had always been a fascination with computers and electronics; he wanted to know how they worked, what they did and how to make them do everything and anything. As he grew up, this desire grew and soon he was learning programming in his spare time from do it yourself guides or teachers. By the time Jacob turned sixteen, he had already learned the finer parts of script editing, how exploit security systems and even how to design his own programs to infiltrate anything his heart desired. Now with another five years of experience under his belt from constant training, he had earned his title as an elite hacker.

Fingers were flying across the keyboard, as he went to the one place on the internet that no one could find without knowing exactly where to look, what servers to go through and having access to old codes from the days when the internet wasn't a public service. As he moved through several proxy-servers, his computers signal became lost in an infinite loop as the signal lost itself in a sea of servers before disappearing into what was designed to look like a decommissioned server. There was no pings, no signs of any sort of activity in this area, as the scripts and signs had all been edited to never show anything going on; only the physical application of the server would appear, but that was hidden away. Jacob let his computer sit for a moment, it hummed in a way that he felt resonated with his soul before his hands went back down and he typed in a string of commands. As his fingers darted against the keys, his heartbeat grew faster, the command string growing longer until finally upon hitting enter, he could watch as his computer screen lit up with a single window.

"Do you wish to Enter?" It stated flatly, causing him to click yes before being asked for a password. Typing it in, his screen completely vanished becoming black with lines of neon green appearing before him. Squinting, he cursed lightly at the sight. _Damn, what were they thinking? This is such an eyesore._ A few lines of text emerged, stating nothing specific, but Jacob already knew this code, knew what he had to do to forward yet again; a rapid series of clicks emerged as the final command was entered. Once done, a series of names appeared on the screen, each of them acting like an instant messaging unit; a few names continually popped up as their conversation worked on and on, but Jacob found nothing interesting to look at in that moment. This was Dark Net, a portion of the internet that was no longer accessible through normal means. Here, there was no way to monitor their actions, no way to stop them from saying or doing what they wanted, here….they were truly unlimited in their actions. It was every hacker's dream and the one area of life that Jacob used to vent his dissatisfaction with his pitiful scrap of a life.

_I need a god damn drink._ Even in that moment, the moment of release from the daily grind, all Jacob could think about was enhancing it, losing himself completely. Wanting to be unconscious, hell he wanted to be dead for all he cared. There was nothing worth while in his life at the moment, family sitting down on some sunny beach in Florida while he froze his ass off in New York. _I should have just stayed home, ignored the challenge of a life in this God-forsaken city. If I had just thought of the implications first, I wouldn't have to deal with all this crap. _Having thought this on the way to the fridge, he yanked it open, grabbing one of the two half-empty bottles of Wild Turkey. _Cheap whiskey, another night alone and stuck in front of a computer waiting for my miserable boss to call me and say I have to work. Another day in paradise._

Viciously insulting himself, he plopped back down in front of the computer, uplifting the bottle without a seconds notice and drinking straight from the bottle. Draining at least three shots worth, he drummed his fingers on the table before blinking. Something interesting had just emerged. Another user had typed in something interesting, it was what he would normally have called a battle-call, but this one…it was different…it was almost a plea. "Hey, Dark-Net users, I found a security system. Most advanced I've ever seen in my life, the defenses on this thing are absolutely crazy; should be a good test for everyone here. What about you Dagon? I'm sure you'd love to knuckle down and try to crack this thing."

_I've really got to change that username…Dagon is so overused. _Jacob thought to himself, quietly pulling up the handle of Whiskey, taking a sip before replying. "I'll have to see the security system first. I haven't seen you around, so I don't know if you're just some idiot Script-kiddie wasting my time." Almost immediately after he finished, the screen before him opened up with a directory file. Raising an eyebrow slowly, the southerner now in New York set his bottle of Wild Turkey down for the first time. _Hello…what do we have here?_

"Well, whomever you are….you were right, this is probably the most advanced security system I've ever seen. Let's see here, we've got about fifty members alone. So let's have a little race. Who will be the first to crack their code!" Laughing happily after inputting the message, he went right to work finding some meaning to his dreary existence in the processing of code, measuring up the defenses of the system and figuring out what laid inside. Knowing that the other fifty members would be working hard at this as well, Jacob knew there wasn't any time to lose. _I do believe it is time to unleash the kraken. _Humming to himself at the thought, he introduced his own personally created virus known as the kraken to some of the more savvy hackers on the internet. A malware bug designed specific to trace keystrokes and access any encrypted files, the virus was something that most people only heard of in myths. No one ever got it and likely never saw it even if they did; it was a monstrous file containing over two-thousand commands and counter-measures should one fail. It was the product of nearly three years of work and it was his baby. Chuckling as the virus went to work, he watched as a loading bar would show how much time remained on opening a file or where exactly he was in the process.

_Well, for now I'm invisible, but I should keep monitoring my progress. Don't want to make a slip-up and end up alerting whoever owns this, I'll be damned if this isn't government-level security though. _Flipping through some of the files, all he did was scan through them, there wasn't enough access into the computer to get a distinct code; so he figured he'd just salami slice a few files and work from there, figure out whose server he was looking into. After two hours of careful monitoring, decrypting and creating access, Jacob got his answer….and it wasn't something he liked seeing. _And….shit._

That was the only thing he could think of as he stared at the official insignia of U.S. Military. Swearing loudly as he jumped up away from the computer, he quickly returned to the root server, burying his fingers into his hair as he sent out a warning to the other members. "This is Dagon, I've broken through and all of you need to stop NOW. You're looking at the U.S. Military's computer defense, I'm not joking…you're all in serious danger!" No sooner than the message had been sent out, he found himself panicking. Turning his laptop off immediately, he looked around his home, seeing if there was anything…anything at all that he could take with him. The resounding answer was a no. Everything was thread-bare and worthless by this point, maybe worth a few hundred dollars all together if his electronics were added into it.

_Shit, shit, shit! _He began to swear repeatedly inside as he grabbed his laptop and turned towards the door. It wouldn't be long, there was a police station not six blocks away, the intrusion in all due likelihood would have been noticed already and that was it. Cursing at his bad-luck, he knew running would only lead to looking guilty of this crime; sitting down on his couch, he rubbed his face slowly wondering what he should do next. That's when he grabbed his bottle of Wild-Turkey and drained the rest of it, deciding all he could do was wait. After two hours, the 'courtesy call' came with two officers and an Army official nearly breaking down his door; already with his hands behind his head and on his knees, Jacob said nothing as he waited.

No sooner than they came in and began slapping the cuffs on him, Jacob's Miranda rights were being ratted off to him in a tone that already made him think he was a dead-man walking. Sweat beaded up on his forehead, his body began to quiver as the cold gaze of the military official and his full white beard met him. As Jacob's heart pounded in his chest, he wanted to scream that he was innocent, but he stayed still letting himself be lifted up from the ground and pushed towards the door. It was embarrassing enough to watch them grab his computer and confiscate it, but adding insult to injury, they had begun tearing the place apart at the seams. Unable to say anything about it, he was walked away head slung low as the military official grasped his arm jerking him down the halls of his apartment complex.

Half an hour later, there he was sitting in the interrogation office; hands cuffed to the chair behind him. Jacob stared forward, wondering what was being done to his home as the official from the U.S. military drilled him repeatedly with questions regarding the hacking attempt. Already terrified and unable to think straight, Jacob had retreated into himself completely barely registering what they were saying at the moment. Something continued to ache in the back of his mind. It was an understanding that he was already screwed, he had been set up…hard. Right now someone was likely reaping the benefits of his work while he suffered all the consequences. Yet, there was no way to prove it without basically screwing over another forty-nine people. "HEY ARE YOU LISTENING?" The female shouted at Jacob slamming her fist into the table while the elderly officer folded his arms watching.

"You'd be wise to listen to the woman kid, we've got you nailed for some deep shit right now. So if you want to play around, we've got enough evidence to put you away for a long time. Now, what is it going to be. You going to try playing the hero for your little crew or you going to do the smart thing and tell us what we want to know." That gruff voice, it was all Jacob could do to resist laughing at it. _Who the hell does this guy think he is, General Patton?_

"Look, soldier, for all the hot-air you're blowing in this room there is nothing I can do at the moment. You've confiscated just about everything I own."

"Doesn't mean you can't tell us anything." The female interrupted causing Jacob to glare up at her for a moment biting his tongue. Feeling the effects of fear destroying what rationality and respect had for them completely waning away, he snorted out his response.

"I'm sorry, did I say I was done explaining things hot legs?"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME!"

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Jacob spat back at her for a moment, fidgeting with the cuffs around his wrists, staring up at the female soldier before continuing his statement. "Now, before I was interrupted. You've taken everything I own, I've got no way to access the files that I was going through or anyway to prove my innocence by showing you where I was propositioned for hacking. Sorry, but I'm just a simple white hat hacker, I don't do anything for malicious purposes." As he finished saying this, the general tapped the table with a thin manila folder, obviously Jacob's profile. Leafing through it slowly, he glanced back up at the young man.

"Well, your record doesn't have any indication of wicked intents in your past. You're about as clean as they come in here; however, hacking is a serious crime in today's times. Everything is online, so what were you doing hacking in the first place?" Jacob raised an eyebrow at the question, pondering how to react to that before the older man leaned forward. "Well?"

"Don't rush me General Patton, I'm getting to it. It isn't like I'm going anywhere, I don't see why you and Miss prissy-pants over there are so intent to shove this down my throat." Before he could continue, the female soldier gave him the most spiteful look she could muster, pulling down her camouflaged hat slowly.

"Keep it up kid, we'll see just how funny you think this situation is behind bars."

Jacob only responded with a short laugh before looking back up. "Sounds kinky, you going to be wearing your uniform or should I assume less?" At that statement, she bit her lip obviously infuriated as he rolled his eyes looking back up at her superior officer who was waving her down slowly.

"Continue son, or I just met let Private Vance here have a go at you." As soon as the words left his mouth, Jacob raised an eyebrow, putting on a 'Really?' face before the elderly male just waved his hand dismissing it. "Poor choice of words."

"You think?" Jacob answered before continuing. "Now then, I was bored. There was nothing else to say, I grew up in the middle of the rural south, on a farm no less. I didn't have access to a car or anyway to get around, so my only way to contact people was through the internet. When you're ten years old, with dial-up and most of the social media that is around today hasn't been invented yet…doesn't really work now does it?" Chuckling once, he looked up and continued to speak. "Electronics were what I used to entertain myself and from there it didn't take long for me to realize I wanted to know everything about them and the technology that made the pretty pictures flash in front of me. After a few trips to the library to discover how it all worked, I dove straight in."

The female solider by this point was leaning against the door, frowning in her anger and listening to Jacob speak, starting to remove her jacket and hang it up on a nearby hook; she exposed the v-neck t-shirt she was wearing underneath. It was her turn to give a giggle as she heard the end of his story. "Well no wonder you've got no skill with women, you're just another maggot who spends all their time on the internet."

"Congratulations, you're judging the actions of a guy chained to a chair as being how is normally. I guess you also think I'm a masochist? Please, ma'am go get your whip and give me a good lashing, I do so LOVE it when people hurt me." Shaking his head, he turned back up to her, unable to really keep his mouth shut at this point. "Seriously, could you try not to dive right into a stereotype. I'm sure you're just another dumb-ass bimbo that thinks if a guy doesn't play football or bench more than his body weight, he is a queer. "

Cracking her knuckles slowly, Jacob could tell she was about at her limit; though her commanding officer was doing a good job of….absolutely nothing. It was almost as if he was enjoying the little banter that the two had going at each other, leaving a breach in professionalism that made Jacob think this was a crucifixion rather than an actual interrogation. _ Dear God, this is just a formality isn't it? It doesn't really matter what I say here, they've got me dead to rights. _"So, you did what you could to entertain yourself and eventually got into the hacking world. Interesting, so tell me Mr. Engel…..this job was far too big to undertake by yourself….where are the others that helped on this…project of yours."

"It wasn't my project. I told you already, the only thing I'm interested in is helping others. The idea was simply to find holes in the security system, fix them and then alert the owners; it isn't like I was trying to steal military documents!" Jacob's head had thrust forward in his anger at the situation, already bad enough he had been played by some anonymous person, now he was going to take the fall for them and take it hard. "We were linked by some scumbag, but now I have no way of proving it, not like you two would have believed it. I know how the system works, you found a hacker, damn good times for everyone now. Me and any others you caught are going to have our reputations butchered completely and utterly, by the time you're done I'm not going to be able to go anywhere." Cursing, Jacob looked at the pair, seeing the dirty smile on the senior officer's face. That was all he needed, the fact of the matter was that he was right on the money about his new fate.

"Seems you know a good bit Mr. Engel. Since you have nothing to show or give us. I'm just going to leave you and Miss Vance here alone for a little while. Miss Vance, you've got a few minutes while I go get the final paperwork and a cup of coffee. Try not to hurt him too bad."

_Oh, isn't this just WONDERFUL. _Jacob swore inside of his head before looking up at Miss Vance who was approaching him. Her foot came up under Jacob's seat, raising it up slowly before her voice nearly quivered in the excitement of the moment. "So now that we're all alone. Do you have any more criticisms for me or you finally going to bite your tongue?"

"I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question. Because honestly, I don't think you want to hear that I think that v-neck makes you look like a tramp is completely inappropriate to be wearing during an interrogation." _Not exactly my brightest moment, but you know what, worth it. Absolutely worth it. _Jacob thought to himself before the female soldier's fist clocked him right in his jaw. Head now shaking from the impact and follow through, his entire mouth was nothing but a ball of fire as his teeth rattled, aching; adding further injury was the fact that she let the chair go once she had hit him. The sudden push of her fist against the side of his face was enough to make the chair fall backwards, sending him crashing to the floor and banging his head against the cold tile. _Yeah that's a concussion….oww…_

"So, was that good for you Mister Masochist? It was certainly good for me. Always did love punching smart-asses." Vance laughed once obviously just getting started on what was likely going to be a beat down. Jacob only chortled on the floor, as he looked up at her with scorn.

"Oh yeah it was great baby. Give me another please…I want to see how long it takes for you to get off from this."

"I'm so going to enjoy this. Don't stop talking though, that's what is making me hit you so hard." The private stated as she began to stomp forward, straddling Jacob's body and sent a right cross right into the other of his jaw following up with a sharp jab between his eyes. A sadistic grin growing as she continued to punch him over and over again. "Got more to say smart-ass!"

"HIT ME! HIT ME BABY, COME ON, SHOW ME THAT YOU AREN'T JUST A USELESS PAIR OF TITS AND AN ASS IN A G.I. SUIT!" Jacob shouted back at her, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth as she obliged to his requests, continually pounding into his skull having to hold him up by his collar just to avoid his skull from colliding into the tiles. "Owww….ok, that was a good shot, now hit me again." He taunted staring up with one eye starting to grow blurry as she moved away from the jaw and started to focus on the higher reaches of his head. "Yeah…there you go….keep hitting me. I can see it in your eyes you love doing this, you psychotic bitch."

At that statement, Vance stood up starting to stomp on Jacob's stomach in her heavy boots. That repeated sound of the buckle bouncing up and down against the leather rang through the room, while the back of the chair bounced against the tiles. Breathing was getting harder, Jacob's mouth becoming dry as he spat out any moisture that came to it as soon as it entered. Gasping as she continually forced all the air out of his body; he tried to move, tried to get out of the cuffs or even stand up, but it was to no avail. Legs now thrashing wildly, his hands clutched at nothing as his fingers crunched into the ground over and over again with every stomp of her foot.

"How about now smart-ass! You still think I'm a bimbo!"

Hacking a few times as Jacob drew air into his lungs, panting wildly as he stared up at Vance with sarcasm and humor flashing into his eyes. "Nah, you're not a bimbo anymore. That would be too good for you, you're just some wanna be dominatrix." That little quip got him another swift jab to his eyes, causing Vance to straddle his body once again and push her groin right into his chest. Another volley of blows followed as she kept him pinned while punching him, thought it wasn't like he was going anywhere.

"Awww….you do care, already you're closing the distance between us." That earned him a quick punch to the face before he laughed hoarsely, bleeding from his mouth and unable to really see properly or even think very well. Groaning in pain as he laid on the floor trying to gain some sense after next few smashes to his face; he only looked up eye lids quivering as he remained silent.

"You make a pretty good punching bag brat." Vance muttered as she wiped off the blood from her knuckles before hearing Jacob's weak laugh from behind her.

"Good to know….let me know when you want to go another round. Its always fun…to see how a dominate personality reacts when put in a submissive situation." Obviously referring to sex, the young man's head sit the floor once again as blood trailed from the opening. _I've gotta learn how to keep my mouth shut._

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise I might have just kicked your teeth in for that comment." Finishing with that, she left him lying on the floor. Exiting out of the interrogation room and passing her superior as he came back in with a steaming cup of coffee and the paper work he had talked about earlier. Staring down at the bloody, beaten and bruised face of his current charge, he raised his eyebrow slowly.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?"

"Nope."

"She beat the living hell out of you, huh?"

"No, I did this to myself because I thought it would be fun."

"Fired off a lot of those at her huh?"

"Yep."

"Anyway, let's get you up off the floor then I just need you to sign some paperwork and you'll be out of here." Lifting Jacob off the ground and setting the chair upright, the male couldn't even see straight due to one of his eyes closing over in a large black mark. Blinking and noticing that the light stung him, he looked down at the paper-work, trying to read it but found he couldn't.

"I can't read this…what does it say?"

At that, the elder officer picked up the paper-work before scanning it over slowly finally slamming it back down. "Honestly, it spouts a bunch of crap and unnecessary legal jargon to basically say, you take responsibility for your actions and agree to pay a fine to help the military repair the damage you've done to our security system. In other words, you're bribing us to not send you to jail." Disgusted with this fact, both the officer and Jacob spat to the side, though there was more blood from Jacob's side.

"You've got to be kidding me, I just got my ass-handed to me by a female officer, can barely see and think and you guys want a bribe so you won't send me away to prison? On top of that I'm probably still going to lose my job due to the police reports that are going to go out. "

"That's just how the cookie crumbles sometimes kid, you can either sign this contract or you can end up rotting away in federal prison with all the psychopaths out there." Jacob cringed at the very idea, trying to find a pen before the senior officer removed his hand cuffs, lead his hand up to the 'sign here' line and then started him off with his signature. Once Jacob had finished, he placed the paperwork into the file before starting to walk away. "A pleasure doing business with you, you'll get the bill later."

September seventeenth, 2013, Two p.m.

Jacob had indeed lost his job, just as he had predicted. Now walking home from another fruitless day of job-hunting, he found all of his hope for the city taking pity on him gone. Everyone he had talked to had immediately shut him down soon after he got his name out; it was usually accompanied with a quick: "Please leave sir." After already going through about twenty places of employment and getting the same response, he was getting angry. Well, at least the military hadn't COMPLETELY drained him dry. Still clinging to a modest twenty-thousand dollars, he realized that wouldn't last him very long at New York's rates. No income coming in and then being charged at least two-thousand a month just for room at his apartment then additional costs of his utilities and food. Cursing lightly, the military was keeping his laptop and using the information on it to take out his former group.

"Alright, just….got to stay positive." That was when a sign flashed up with an advertisement about student loans and he immediately cursed. "There went that positive." Striding away and eventually marching up to his apartment, he flipped out his cellphone, trying to figure out how long he could keep it before he had to give it up. Nothing was helping him at this point, even looking down at Gizmo, whom he stooped down to pet quietly. As the female cat purred affectionately, he just held his hand against its head lightly. "Sorry to say girl, but I might have to give you up just to survive up here. If anything else goes wrong…I might have to move back in with my parents."

Lifting the animal up into his arms and cradling it slowly, he kissed behind its ear, then sat down with it in his lap. Gizmo soon curled up in a ball on his lap, purring lightly as Jacob ran his fingers against the cat's back. It was quiet….far too quiet for a normal night in New York. Hell, too quiet for New York period. Standing up and starting to walk over to his window, he looked up noticing the massive black cloud overhead. Suddenly someone screamed, leaving Jacob just enough time to pull his head back before Thor smashed down through the fire escape destroying the entire construct as he got back up. The blonde member of the Avenger's whom claimed to be the Norse God of Thunder was already twirling his hammer around getting ready to take off as some confrontation was occurring in the sky.

Panting rapidly as his heart pounded in his chest, he realized that the impact had blown out his windows….damages that were likely going to cost him an arm and a leg to repair. "OH COME ON!" He shouted, before his phone went out ringing wildly. Answering it without even looking at the name on the screen, he hissed angrily into it. "What!"

The voice on the other end of the phone was familiar enough, instantly hitting with a wave of nostalgia. How long had it been since he heard the man's voice? Two years maybe? "Hey, come on, is that anyway to greet an old friend?" Jacob could only smirk before shaking his head out and laughing. _Damn it is good to hear his voice again._

"Yeah, yeah, so how is Iraq treating you Daniel?" There was silence for a moment, Jacob knew what was probably going to come next; his eyes dilated slowly before he calmly sat down. Sighing, he rubbed between his eyes slowly. "What did you do this time Daniel?" _Should have known that he did something wrong, the guy always did have a problem controlling himself. _The silence continued for a moment, but when Jacob got hit with the real news, he was immediately taken a back.

"Jacob, I need your help. I was discharged out here. I'm in New York now at the airport. Please, can you come get me?" Jaw dropping slightly, he would have never imagined that Daniel would have ended up screwing up that bad. Swallowing, he knew he couldn't just leave him there, he had to help him out in some way.

"Alright, but you need to tell me what you did first Daniel." Thinking he just lost his cool with one his superior officers or just screwed up on some mission because he didn't listen to orders. Breathing quietly, he waited, but that was when Daniel answered him.

"Jacob, I found out I was mutant while out in Iraq. My powers activated….Jacob, I don't even have normal teeth anymore, they are all canines now!" Jacob could only listen stunned as one of the closest people in his life began to weep like a child, something that he had never heard him do before. Visualizing the grown man, a living tank of a human-being crying, alone in some New York airport..it was disturbing to him. Hearing his friend crying like that, it hit him hard….harder than any of Vance's blows from three days ago, from which he was still healing.

"Daniel….Daniel….calm down. I'm coming to get you. Where are you right now?" The pair only talked for a few more moments before Jacob hung up his phone. Everything in his life was changing….changing quickly and not for the better. _If there is a God….he has a weird sense of humor. My entire life in shambles and now he turned a soldier into a mutant, only to have him be removed from military? Not exactly something that makes a hell of a lot of sense._

Turning his head and walking over to a nearby drawer, he opened it slowly. Drawing out a bible and staring at it as he put his hand over the book in his silence. _It's all in your hands I suppose….I just don't see the reasons behind it. _Pulling his hand away, he left to pick up his now mutant best friend.


	2. For Better or Worse

The Discarded: Issue 2, For Better and For Worse

September Twelfth: 3:30 P.M. Iraq, Six miles south of Zakho.

It s just another day out on the battlefield. There is nothing to worry about, just a routine patrol around the Zakho river and the town to make sure everything is where it needs to be. There is nothing different about today that we didn t do yesterday, but why am I so on edge? Jager Himell thought to himself. As one of several marines on this little patrol, he constantly questioned what exactly he was doing out here. Well, he knew why he was in Iraq. Ever since he was a kid, all he wanted to do was be a marine, he wanted to be part of the crew that held the biggest, baddest and most battle-hardened soldiers in the world. Since middle-school, all the muscular Aryan had done was train, research and study for the sake of joining this prestigious group. Basic training was a breeze and when they gave him those dress blues and his uniform, it was the proudest damn moment of his life.

Jager was a soldier to soldiers, everything he did was an exemplary action, showing courage and valor in the face of adversity wherever it reared its ugly head. Yet, there was still something that held him back, his anger, unable to keep himself calm in situations that demanded it, it had kept him as a grunt all these years, which suited him just fine. Jager had no need for all that bureaucratic bull shit, all he had need for was a gun in his hand and a target to shoot at. There was nothing for him at the higher ranks, he would be bored there, so he was fine sticking to Lance Corporal status. Hey, Jager! Stop day-dreaming! That voice woke him up from his thoughts, bringing him to the realization that his M-16 was getting too hot to touch from sitting in the sun too long. Sand was blowing into his face, getting caught in his light beard and stinging his eyes. Damn, I knew I should have grabbed my shades. Cursing softly under his breath, Jager shielded his eyes from the sun then turned his head towards his superior officer. The only way to tell him apart from anyone else in their combat gear was the stripes down his arm, giving the man a pause before finally retorting. Yes sir, Sergeant Ream, sir! Relax Jager, nothing ever happens in this sector. Just keep your head on your shoulders and a sharp eye out. We don t want to make today, the day where something finally does. Laughing, the Sergeant walked carefully down to the other two members of their fire team. Of these two, Jager kept his eyes toward Fire their second in command and the automatic rifleman of the group. The newest member and he cradled his weapon, an M27 IAR, in his arms like it was his baby; it was clear the guy was scared, but he didn t need to be, at least in Jager s eyes. This was a veteran squad with only a few more months of duty left before they got shipped back home for relief. Kid drew the lottery with this little assignment.

Hey, Ready Jager s ears perked up at hearing his assignment name called, as a rifleman he was to be a scout and make sure everything was safe before they departed. It was the assist that had called to him, pointing out towards the road side away from the Humvee they were standing beside. What do you make of that smoke over there? You think someone is cooking or do you think they ve got a fire on their hands? All of the soldiers at this point turned their heads toward the smoke that was rising up from the nearby town of Zakho. A pillar of white smoke rising up from the top of a house and rising up from the sky, since it wasn t black, they all knew it wasn t a structural fire, but it was way too much smoke to be issued from a cooking fire.

I don t know .from what I can tell it might be a bush fire or maybe someone decided to burn their trash. Regardless, it might be a good idea to check it out, we ve got nothing better to do anyway. Still, your orders Sergeant. Jager stated, twisting his head back to the squad leader, he fiddled with his dog tags before pointing to the Humvee.

Load up boys, we ll go poke our heads in and then get back to marching in the sands. Wouldn t want the brass thinking we re slacking off while their sorry asses are sipping iced-tea in the barracks. The soldiers laughed in response to this, with the exception of Fire who only clutched his gun closer to his chest and got into the vehicle. You should lighten up Lance Corporal, the two devil dogs back there will watch your ass, so no need to worry about getting a bullet in it. The young man only nodded in response, leaning back in his seat, weapon still at the ready as everyone took their places in the Humvee. It cranked easily and within seconds, they were off, heading towards the town along the road-side. Already they could see another fire team driving from the opposite side to check it out as well.

Seems we ve got company on this little recon mission, Jager, open up radio contact with the other squad. If they get visual contact on what s happening before we do, I want to know about it.

Yes sir! Jager responded immediately, the Aryan moving towards the radio before an explosion rocked his ears. None of them had put in ear-plugs, so the sound even from far off created that all too familiar ringing sound. Heads turned, their eyes dilating as they saw the ball of fire rising up from where their allied Humvee had just been driving. Sargent Ream twisted his head once again, starting to shout as he turned the Humvee towards the other.

Go, go, go! Weapons check now! EAR PLUGS IN! Jager s head spun slightly, but he could still make out everything his Sergeant was saying which was a good thing at least. Check for survivors! Go, go, go! A continuation of shouts came as they approached, Jager leaping out of the vehicle and rushing towards the other before he heard it. Ticking . Oh god, no.

RUN! Jager shouted before another explosion rocked them all from behind, the Humvee sent flipping over with his squad still inside. Heat bloomed up across his entire body, he could feel the flames engulfing him as the force of the explosion tossed him backwards, causing him to roll through the sand. Blood was running down from his cheeks and jaw, his teeth having been rattled to the point of causing his gums to bleed. Feeling weak and helpless in the moment, he laid there, certain that he had been concussed as he laid flat on the ground. Every inch of available skin was blacked by the heat, thankful he got off with a light scalding rather than being burnt alive, he could barely pull up his head before noticing the rest of his squad s fate.

All of them were dead, their bodies laid out across the desert like some careless giant had just tossed them about. Each of them had been shot out of the vehicle as it launched upwards, leaving them to smack helplessly into the rocks below. Cringing as he tried to pull his body up, Jager heard the click of a gun behind him, actually several guns. Bodies soon began to appear in his fuzzy line of sight as he could see various members of a terrorist cell standing front of him. Unable to understand what they were saying both due to being unable to hear anything at the moment and unable to understand their language, his eyes twisted up. The bastards were laughing at him, laughing at the dead soldiers .that much he could tell. Anger was welling up inside of him, but so was something else. Gnashing his teeth together, he couldn t believe the pain he felt as several began to fall out.

! Jager began to scream, his fists clenching into the sand as his eyes dilated rapidly, his heart pounding in his chest as he began to feel blood surging everywhere through his body. Something dormant had awakened inside of him, something that had been hidden for far too long in his genetic structure. Clawing at the ground, foam began to pour out of his mouth in torrents, much like a rapid dog would. The terrorists, believing the male to be dying and simply convulsing as his death troughs set in stopped to watch and laughed his plight.

This time, his scream was loud enough to give the men pause as they looked down at him, noticing the sharp points of his teeth as he pushed himself up on his hands. Fuck you all .I m going to kill you. It was a short quip, before the blood shed started. The citizens of Zahko who were close enough to hear the screaming would never forget it and those who saw it would have the violent scene etched into their minds for eternity. In horror, they watched or listened as men were torn limb from limb by another man, spewing foam from his mouth and screaming his rage. When he was finished, he left nothing but a trail of blood and gore in his wake, walking into the desert, soaked in his victims blood.

These events soon slipped into local legend, a myth used to scare children from joining dangerous organizations, but for Jager Himel, this was a reality that he would never be able to escape. Two days later, he was found in the middle of the desert. Exhausted and collapsed into a heap in the middle of scorching heat, the blood still caked to his body as the last of his canteens water had ran out only two hours prior. Once retrieved, Jager knew the true pain that life could usher in, his dreams soon stripped from him and everything that he had been made torn out of his flesh. While many were glad to see him return and countless others celebrated with him, it was to be a short lived session of rejoice.

Jager we need to talk to you about what happened. That monotonous voice droned inside of his head, even as he sat inside of the airport in New York city. It had been the harbinger of the end for him, the utter destruction of the only thing he felt he was good for in life. Ironically, the airport speakers were blasting the old song, War, what is it good for? Every line seemed to taunt him as he grit his teeth together, the hard points agitating him. It was just another thing in his life that had changed when he had no desire for it too; the fangs that now lined his entire mouth a testament to what was stripped from him. Fists clenched tightly, all he could see was the clock in front of him ticking in front of him, marching on towards the six o clock hour while he counted away from the hours he had been discharged for. Yet, that voice still echoed in his head.

Jager we need to talk to you about what happened. We have numerous reports from the citizens of Zakho who said you .went berserk and started killing those men with your bare hands. They said you literally tore them apart. Stopping, the investigator stood up, his bald head hidden behind a camouflaged beret, which wasn t going a good job of hiding it. Long-bony fingers kept stretching back and forth over a pile of paper work, as his facial features which seemed to be too stretched over his skull eerily looked him over. It was as if the man s skin was too small for his skeleton, but Jager couldn t say anything, couldn t even make a sound. All the air was being sucked out of him in the moment as the man spoke. To him, this man was no longer even human, he was the manifestation of all his fears with steel eyes, piercing into him with knives of pure, hot-hatred.

We understand about your squad-mates death, but your actions and then your subsequent journey into the desert is pointing toward severe psychological distress. He didn t know, no one had bothered to check Jager s mouth aside from a single doctor, who promised to keep the change in his teeth a secret. Still, the silence of the moment, it pained him, his heart sinking low as he knew what was going to happen next. We can t afford to have you have another lapse out on the battlefield Jager, I m sorry, but we re putting you up for discharge on reasons of mental instability. We re going to help you, so don t worry about it. It was all Jager could do at that point not to launch up across the table and tear the man s throat out.

T .thank you sir. Those were the hardest words that ever came out of his mouth. After that, he sat in that same chair too stunned to think. It had been the longest three hours of his life as he listened to the same man that had just sentenced him to what he thought was a fate worse than death. Life lost all its color, there was no reason left for him to bother going on. All the moisture was sucked out of his mouth, the dull droning of that voice rang in his ears, but there was no substance behind it, only a buzz.

I should have said something, should have done anything at all to keep myself from losing my place in the military. It was all I had and now I m lost, I m set out into a tempest with nothing but a raft. War was good for putting these violent hands to work, war was good for giving me meaning, war and the life of a soldier was all I knew. So what now, I ve been pushed over the Rubicon and now the bridge behind me has been burned. I ve got no army backing me and no money to keep my life together. There is nothing left for me.

The sullen beat of the clock striking six was met with Jager leaning his head back against the ridge of the bench he was sitting on. His neck uncomfortably laying against it as he stared upward towards the bleak grey ceiling, there was nothing left. All that he had fought for was gone now. Maybe, maybe I should just give up. Not like anyone is ever going to hire me now. I m just another drain on society, everyone is going to think I m some crazy ass who couldn t take the troubles of war. Yet, all that really happened was that I ended up becoming a mutant. Which in some cases .is even worse than being completely bat-shit. What s the point? I might as well rush out of this place, find the nearest subway station and toss myself in front of the train.

Jager s hands clutched for a moment, then released as he laid still. His entire world became the plastered white of the ceiling above, off-set only by the florescent lights breaking up the monotony every few feet. Ironic, considering it only served to create a new monotony that stunned his brain until he could no longer think, his mind trying to count the number of tiles and getting lost in the waves of them. Until he finally went cross eyed. Damn it, I can t even count right anymore, for fuck s sake, I really am worthless.

Just as the thought left, a voice called out to him, clear and friendly complete with a hand outstretched directly towards him. You look like you ve had better days Jager, come on. Let s get you back to my place. Jager knew who it was from the sound alone, but it didn t mean he was any less happy to see the youthful features of the short-brown haired male in front of him. Though a good head shorter than he was at six foot five, the pair teased each other, even with Jager s tricep being nearly triple the size of Jacob s.

You coming onto me twig? The marine teased putting one of his hands on his friend s head and rubbing it playfully as the pair started to walk away. It was just a momentary reprieve from their troubles, each hiding their own demons inside, torments that were eating away at them from the inside. Neither wanted to trouble the other with what was now antagonizing them, though Jager s problem was already known, Jacob had yet to tell him about what was going on in his own life. These issues appeared to be able to wait, leaving the former hacker to look up at his ex-military friend. The difference between the two was like night and day. Any casual observer could see they were mismatched, Jager being taller, more muscular and clearly a soldier, towered over Jacob physically. His khaki cargos could conceal god knew how many weapons and the word: Marine on his chest was starting to stretch from the girth beneath it.

Jacob meanwhile was just barely five foot ten, his arms rather thin with little in the way of definition and the white button down and jeans combo he was currently wearing, made him look more like an IT worker than anything else. Adding to this was the fact that Jacob was not in his contacts today, instead deciding to wear the thick glasses that aided his border-line blindness. As the pair made their way to the exit, whispers followed them, a few giggles escaping the lips of females as they moved and a few men sneered at them. Others fidgeted uncomfortably in their presence, leaving Jacob to raise an eye brow at the obvious assumption that many were making. Seems they don t know anything about you, Lady Killer. The smaller one quipped with a smirk before pointing over to a leggy red-head in a short skirt, causing the marine to lick his lips playfully.

You shouldn t tease me like that Mr. Southern Gent. I wouldn t exactly want to hurt any fair maidens that cross the path of this boisterous, black knight. Jager chomped his teeth together after this, grinning from ear to ear as the pair laughed in the moment; both happy to see each other again and neither giving a rats ass if anyone thought they were in a relationship or not. They knew the truth, so screw what anyone else thought of them.

So, Jager .any plans for tonight. I m not going to keep you on a leash, since I know you re not actually a nut job. All that came out of the comment was silence, it seemed that sparked the same sullenness that had been lording over him moments before. Jacob wished he hadn t said anything, his one eyes turning downward as they sadly escaped the confines of the dull white world that was the airport.

I think, I m just going to have a drink alright? Maybe go down to a bar and spend the last of my money getting blitzed before getting up tomorrow and looking for a job. I m no deadbeat, so I ll pull my own weight around here. Jager stated with conviction before stepping into his friend s car, whom was now looking at the street with his eyes dilating.

Yeah, sure that sounds great Jager. Let s just get back to your new home before the storm catches us. I heard that there was supposed to be a massive thunderstorm tonight. Jacob ignited the engine while saying this, the clouds gathering behind him in a massive black cumulonimbus. As they drove, the radio beat out Prayer of Refuge by Rise Against The clock flashing six o six. 


End file.
